


The Lonely Sea

by Ceoofcringe



Category: BioShock 1 & 2 (Video Games)
Genre: Angst, Drabble, Implied/Referenced Suicide, M/M, Sad Ending, atlas needs a hug, f for this fandom-, im gonna post shit anyway
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-13
Updated: 2019-11-13
Packaged: 2021-01-16 09:07:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 465
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21268538
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ceoofcringe/pseuds/Ceoofcringe
Summary: Sort of AU where Atlas is real, and was left in Rapture. Implied Atlas/Jack.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> First post! Woo!

Rapture was lonely.

Nothing new there.

Down here, with nothing but insane splicers and rumbling Big Daddies, it could drive a man crazy.

Atlas was somewhat sane. Probably the only person with at the least half a braincell left.

Rapture was a cruel, cruel place.

His mind wanders over to Jack.

The light of Rapture, a man who sacrificed everything to give a bunch of girls a good life.

Atlas missed him. 

He misses having someone to talk to. His vocal cords haven't been used in so long, he isn't sure he can even speak anymore. 

He wonders what Jack is doing on the surface, with his family, while Atlas's mind rots away in this underwater hell.

Rapture is cold. Its dead, and lonely. 

The city has this effect, sapping all the life and energy from people, leaving them as a husk of what they once where.

Atlas's eyes slip shut, and he lets the darkness take him.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Implied Suicide, please leave if you’re sensitive to that sort of thing.

Atlas has always dreamed of the surface. 

After all, he did belong there. 

He still recalls the bright sunlight, warm afternoon rays leaving a pleasant feeling on his skin. 

Down here, the closet thing you could get to that is the warmth plasmids create, and that’s still rare, as Atlas doesn’t use plasmids. 

He should have though, might have had given him a hand with all them splicers. 

The abandoned suite he’s in is dark and dripping with neglect and disrepair. Still, it’s the closest thing he had to a home. 

Atlas sighs, his vocal chords being rusty from disuse. 

Seems everything in Rapture is ruined in one way or another. 

Atlas’s mind, the city itself,

The life of a man who was determined to help. 

Christ he manipulated the only good thing this damned city produced.

Of course, it wasn’t his fault. He had tried so hard to redeem Atlas, but when he got onto that final Bathysphere that would’ve taken them to the surface, splicers attacked and Atlas sent him to the surface alone. 

I’m sorry, Atlas mouthed, watching as the other’s fists slid down the glass, a mixture of shock and sadness on his face, the worried faces of little sisters peering out from behind his legs. 

You deserve to rot, Fontaine says. And he’s right. 

The shotgun he takes into his hand is a friendly weight. 

Splicers pace around the halls, some turning on one other In an effort to receive ADAM. It’s futile, really. All the little sisters are gone, living a happy life on the surface. 

Atlas looks around, noting the large window giving a beautiful view of the decaying Rapture, sea life merged with the steel and neon lights. 

Smiling, he holds the gun to his head.

And he pulls the trigger. 

_I won’t leave you twistin’ in the wind_


End file.
